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<title>Let Me Tempt You by Cousin Shelley (CousinShelley)</title>
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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27650852">Let Me Tempt You</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/CousinShelley/pseuds/Cousin%20Shelley'>Cousin Shelley (CousinShelley)</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Good Omens (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Belly Rubs, Body Swap, Hand Feeding, M/M, Pining, Rubbing face lovingly against belly</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-30</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-11-30</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 20:33:45</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,979</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27650852</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/CousinShelley/pseuds/Cousin%20Shelley</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Aziraphale would have made a damn fine demon.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>64</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>We <3 Bellies - Round 1</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Let Me Tempt You</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/KannaOphelia/gifts">KannaOphelia</a>.</li>



    </ul></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Crowley turned to his left, his right, then stared straight at himself in the full-length mirror that hung on the back of the door. Delight bubbled up inside him at how it felt to see Aziraphale reflected back at him. The delight didn’t stick, though, because it all looked so <em>wrong</em>. </p><p>The gentle lines of Aziraphale’s face, the way his mouth was so often pursed and the corners of his eyes pinched together when he smiled, all those were gone. Crowley tried to smile in the way Aziraphale did when they had lunch and a particular type of petit four was available. He knew the smile by heart, could conjure it in his mind’s eye at will, but when he tried to recreate it . . . </p><p>“I look like a serial killer.” He frowned at himself. “That is the smile of someone with candy in his mouth and corpses in his cellar.”</p><p>Those words sounded wrong coming from Aziraphale’s mouth. Even the way he stood was wrong. Oh, it would pass for the idiots in heaven, he was sure, or a casual acquaintance, but he knew his angel through and through, and he wouldn’t have fooled himself. </p><p>He uncocked his hip, and still looked like someone leaning backward as if he might tumble forward otherwise. Crowley stood that way normally, his back a little swayed, relaxed and loose. It was comfortable. But it jutted Aziraphale’s stomach forward in a way that stretched it out a bit, enough to make it seem unnatural and that gave the appearance his waistcoat buttons were on the verge of popping free. <em>Woe be to me if I damage these clothes.</em></p><p>Crowley leaned forward enough that he stood perfectly straight, the way Aziraphale stood, and the body looked right again. Soft, gently curved in the right places. The smile in the mirror softened. </p><p>He put his hands on his stomach, a stomach that now looked comfortable, and<em> right</em>.</p><p>Aziraphale’s waistcoat was soft, especially where it was worn and damn near threadbare around the bottom buttons. He stroked his fingertips around them, over the fraying cream fabric, and slowly, carefully, began undoing the buttons. The white shirt beneath was less worn and thin, but he was just as careful as he opened it. </p><p>He pressed his hands against Aziraphale’s skin. His stomach was as soft and warm and <em>good</em> as Crowley had always thought it would be. He squeezed gently and stroked the surprisingly smooth and almost hairless skin. As he kneaded the softest parts below Aziraphale’s navel, he wondered if his angel would be terribly angry that he’d done this, or flattered. Both?</p><p>He wouldn’t tell him, of course, and he wouldn’t feel guilty. At least not much. He pressed a careful fingertip into Aziraphale’s navel, and his new body shuddered. This was definitely wrong, but he was a demon, after all. </p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>“I did not!” Aziraphale shook his head with a drunken giggle that warmed something inside Crowley. “I simply told him the book was not for sale.”</p><p>“Nah, nah, nah, nah, nah. I was in the<em> room.</em>” Crowley drained the wine in his glass, plunked it onto the closest flat surface and sat on the sofa next to Aziraphale. “When he asked you the price of that book you <em>did</em> say it was not for sale. Right <em>after</em> you snatched it out of his hands like he was trying to abduct your child.”</p><p>“You always exagg—”</p><p>“You nearly lost your mind! He tripped on his way out of the door because he was in a hurry to get away from the crazy bookshop owner.” Crowley belched softly and elbowed Aziraphale, missing his arm and pressing against the side of his stomach instead. Still so soft, just as he remembered it, and extra warmed with wine, he supposed. “He thought you were about to murder him, and I kinda wondered myself.”</p><p>“<em>Oh</em>.” Aziraphale’s cheeks pinked and his mouth formed that bow Crowley had never mastered in the mirror, but not for lack of trying. He looked so sweet and<em> sinful</em> as he plucked a chocolate from the box Crowley had brought with the wine. Frattenau’s Finest, Old Worlde Chocolatier. Aziraphale’s favorite. </p><p>“I’m serious, Aziraphale. I thought I might have to help an angel bury a body, and what an interesting day that would have been.” Crowley licked his lips, waiting, watching. </p><p>“You’re being absolutely ridiculous.” Aziraphale popped the small chocolate into his mouth. He closed his eyes and inhaled through his nose, savoring it, his lower jaw moving slowly back and forth. Crowley could tell that Aziraphale was moving his tongue side to side too, letting the heat of his mouth and the pressure melt the chocolate rather than chew and rush through the experience. </p><p>Crowley's body tightened inside his skin, and his face warmed as if he sat in front of a fire. <em>Look what he does to me, and he's not even trying. He'd have made a damn fine demon.</em></p><p>Crowley felt his mouth open, then purposefully closed it. Then, thanks to the wine, thought <em>fuck it all anyway</em> and let it drop open again. </p><p>When Aziraphale’s eyes opened, Crowley was staring directly into them. </p><p>Aziraphale cleared his throat and cast his eyes downward before meeting his gaze again. “Thank you again for the chocolates. They’re so incredibly expensive and hard to find, it’s such a treat!"</p><p>He’d actually done a little miracle to find them, but it was safe enough these days. He and Aziraphale didn’t have to worry about answering to anyone, at least not yet. They’d managed to intimidate both realms with their secret switcheroo, so if he wanted to miracle Frattenau’s Finest just for the thrill of watching Aziraphale eat them, his old bosses in hell could, well, go to hell. </p><p>“Ah, you know,” Crowley said with a dismissive wave, “saw them, thought of you.”</p><p>“Are you sure you wouldn’t like one?”</p><p>“Seeing you enjoy them is more than enough for me.” Crowley plucked one of the square pieces from the small box and lifted it to Aziraphale’s lips. “Have another.”</p><p>“Oh my,” Aziraphale said with a chuckle. “You do indulge me.” He opened his mouth and carefully took it, his lips brushing against Crowley’s fingertips. </p><p>Crowley watched Aziraphale savor that piece in the same way he had the others, watched the way Aziraphale put a hand on the side of his stomach, and without taking the time for much critical thinking about what would come next, Crowley spun on the sofa and lay on his back, his head in Aziraphale’s lap. His cheek brushed the knuckles of Aziraphale’s hand where it rested against his stomach. </p><p>Aziraphale swallowed the candy in his mouth and blinked a few times. “Are you all right?”</p><p>“Never better. Comfy.”</p><p>“Oh, well. Good.” </p><p>Crowley closed his eyes and rubbed his cheek against Aziraphale’s stomach. He already knew how soft the waistcoat was, how soft his entire midsection was, but as much as he’d wanted to press his face against it over the centuries, he hadn’t been able to manage that after they’d swapped bodies. Maybe he could have miracled some sort of agility and flexibility and given it a shot. But the thrill wasn't just the softness of the body he rubbed his cheek against. Most of the thrill was that Aziraphale was <em>inside</em> that body. If he'd done it to himself, it wouldn't have been the same.</p><p>He rubbed his nose against the soft curve beneath Aziraphale’s navel. Even the buttons of his waistcoat were warm. Then he rubbed his cheek against the cream fabric, and sighed at the warmth and comfort he felt. He wanted to soak up that warmth, every bit of it, without the clothing in the way. </p><p>“Crowley.” Aziraphale’s voice came out a squeak. </p><p>“Yes, Angel?”</p><p>“<em>Crowley.</em>”</p><p>“Hmm?”</p><p>Crowley opened his eyes to darkness and understood Aziraphale’s tone immediately. He’d gone half-serpent in his bliss, and his head had slithered between Aziraphale’s shirt and his waistcoat.</p><p>“Sober!” Aziraphale said sharply. “Sober up, now!”</p><p><em>Shit.</em> </p><p>Crowley removed himself from Aziraphale’s clothing, but not his lap. He purged the wine from his system with a groan while Aziraphale did the same. He was left blinking up at a baffled, flushed face.</p><p>Crowley cleared his throat. “Sorry? I kinda lost track of what I was doing.”</p><p>“Oh.” Aziraphale’s voice dropped off at the end. Did he sound disappointed? “I thought as much. I thought you might feel . . . awkward later if I said nothing.” He grinned, but it came off as false as Crowley’s practice grins in the mirror. </p><p>Before the thwarted Apocalypse, Crowley probably would have gotten up and sat next to him, and they’d have talked a little more before he left, and things would have gone on much the same. But everything had changed. They’d saved the world, together. And now that he was there, his head in Aziraphale’s comfortable lap, his soft stomach a breath away, what did he have to lose? If all the forces of good and evil in creation hadn’t come between them, why would this? </p><p>Crowley rubbed his cheek against Aziraphale’s stomach. “More awkward than this?’</p><p>Aziraphale tutted. “That’s not awkward. It’s just not<em> like</em> you. That’s why I wanted you to sober up, before you did things you . .  might wish you hadn’t.”</p><p>“I wish I had, years before now. Centuries. Millenia.” He pressed his face into softness and leaned up so he could rest his entire head against Aziraphale’s stomach. </p><p>“Oh. I see. Then let me confess . . . I wish you had, too.”</p><p>“Really?”</p><p>Aziraphale’s tentative hand touched Crowley’s hair, then his fingers sank into it. He massaged Crowley’s scalp. “Yes, really.”</p><p>“Fantastic.”  Crowley beamed. The shudder that went through Aziraphale was genuine, because he knew what it felt like from the inside, too. He slid a hand between Aziraphale’s shirt and waistcoat, then rubbed his cheek against the frayed fabric. “Would you like another chocolate?”</p><p>Aziraphale giggled, and the fact that he was no longer drunk made the sound even sweeter. “<em>Would</em> I? Does a fish swim in water?”</p><p>Crowley snorted. “That the angel version of a bear shitting in the woods?” He slid his hand out and waved it at Aziraphale’s confused expression. “Never mind. Just . . . enjoy.”</p><p>He fed Aziraphale a chocolate and shuddered when the angel pressed a kiss to his fingertips as he took it. He carefully unbuttoned the waistcoat, aware of Aziraphale’s intense gaze on him—undoubtedly part was worry he would damage the delicate garment—unbuttoned Aziraphale’s shirt, and slowly rubbed the soft skin of his stomach.</p><p>He pressed his cheek tight against it. “Would you mind if I . . .” He let his true face flash for a moment, hoping he wasn’t pressing his luck. </p><p>“Of course not. You’ve indulged me so much this evening already. Your turn, Crowley.” He stroked Crowley’s hair once then moved his hand away. </p><p>Crowley’s skin rippled as much in joy as in transformation. </p><p>“Would you . . . would you like me to eat them all?” Aziraphale asked, his voice lower, breathier, than Crowley was used to.</p><p>“<em>Yesssss</em>,” Crowley hissed as he twined his body around Aziraphale’s thigh, slid up between his legs and coiled over the curve of his belly, soaking up the warmth as if he were sunning himself on an impossibly soft rock. He watched Aziraphale savor each candy, and wondered if a spanner hadn't gotten caught in the works somewhere when God made his angel. </p><p><em>Crowley</em> was the demon. <em>He</em> was supposed to tempt others to have sinful thoughts. At least now that he didn’t have to report to hell, he didn’t have to worry about any of those arseholes giving him a hard time for eternity because he, a demon, had been undone by creation’s most tempting angel. </p><p>Crowley looped around Aziraphale’s back, then rested his head on the curve of his stomach to watch his angel slowly lick chocolate from his fingertips. </p>
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